Hope
by leiasky
Summary: Arwen and Aragorn share a moment before he departs Rivendell with the Fellowship. Inspired by scenes from the TT trailer COMPLETE


Title:   Hope

Author: Leiasky@aol.com

Synopsis:  Arwen and Aragorn share a moment before he departs Rivendell with the Fellowship.

Rating: PG-13 

Spoilers: No

Pairing: Aragorn / Arwen.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien. I don't own these characters. (darn!) I make no money. Done for fun.

Additional Info:  Inspired by scenes in the Two Towers Trailer.

Archive: If you like, just tell me where.

Hope 

Birds chirped and the wind whistled through the trees as Arwen walked slowly along the pathway. Her gown lightly kissed the ground as she moved, the wispy material falling and flowing like a breeze around her ankles. The cool night air swept through her hair and she trembled, pulling the cloak tightly around her shoulders. 

Rivendell was quiet. It's inhabitants asleep. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at the stars, tears glistening unshed in their dark depths. Her hand instinctively brushed her bare neck, where once her jewel lay. She had given the most precious thing she could in the heat of an intensely personal moment. The Evenstar would guide Aragorn, remind him of what awaited at the end of his long journey. 

Her heart soared with pride that he'd finally decided to take up the fight against the darkness that threatened to consume the whole of Middle Earth. The fact that in doing so would reveal his true identity and place him in far greater danger – from friends and enemies alike, made her lip tremble with fear. 

And when he rode into the White City all was uncertain, even in the dark times that were now upon them. It was well known that Gondor did not accept the claims of Isildur's heirs. Arwen worried not only that they would not accept Aragorn as their King, but that in his revealing himself to them, it would place him in far greater danger than living his life in the wilds as a Ranger of Arnor – be he their Chieftain or no.

Arwen continued to walk, lost in thought, down the pathway her betrothed had trod mere hours before. A small, flower-laden grove waited for her at the end of the trail. Her thoughts drifted to the other Man who might hold the key to Aragorn's acceptance in the kingdom of his forefathers. Boromir – Gondor's representative at the Council of her father. 

His noble birth had given him the right to address the Council of Elrond but his voice carried with it an uncertainty about the future of his City. He had arrogantly spouted that Gondor needed no King, but his eyes spoke volumes after learning that the long-missing heir of Isildur stood right before him.

Arwen had no doubt that Aragorn could win the support of this arrogant man who did what he did and believed what he believed only out of loyalty and love for his people. It was the same love of life that Aragon refused to reveal to all but the most keen of eyes. The two men were kin – however distant.

When she reached the small grove, her eyes immediately dropped to see the fresh flowers that had been set at the base of a carved image of Elbereth.

Arwen smiled, knowing that these flowers had come from the son to whom this grave belonged. Gilraen. Aragorn's mother. 

Arwen smiled sadly. She'd meant everything to Aragorn. And at her passing was the first time she had seen the grown Ranger cry. She knew Aragorn visited this place whenever he returned to Rivendell. To pay respect to the woman who had given him life and given up everything to protect him.

Slowly, Arwen sank to her knees. She clasped her hands together and rested them atop the statue's base. She squeezed her eyes closed and whispered a prayer to keep her beloved safe. 

The breeze kicked in just then, ruffling the fallen leaves and tossing them in every direction. Small leaf funnels trailed circles on the stone but Arwen remained oblivious to all but her most personal thoughts.

When she was finished, Arwen stood and cast a small smile down at the remains of the kind, thoughtful woman. "He will live to realize your dream, Gilraen. For the sake of Middle Earth, he must." Raising her hands in an elvish gesture of farewell, she turned and walked away.

Small lanterns were the only light, and movement, along the walkways that led back to the elven homes scattered along the base of the mountain. Arwen stared at the one in which Aragorn slept. He had been tense and uncertain when he'd arrived with the Hobbits, immediately being drawn into intense council with both her father and Mithrandir.  Their short time together lightened the load he'd allowed to settle atop his shoulders and she hoped he had found the peace that would enable him to get a good nights rest.

Deciding that she would rather check in on his rest rather than speculate, She quietly made her way into the houses, carefully avoiding any eyes that may be watching from the darkness. News of her visiting her betrothed's bedchambers right under her father's nose would not go over well – and so she moved quickly and quietly through the long hallways that made up the central house of Rivendell. 

Like all the bedchambers, they were open-aired, allowing nature to spill into the room. A small click was all that could be heard as she closed the door behind her and turned toward where he lay still upon the bed. She stared at the peaceful look on his face for a long time, burning the image into her mind. Soon, she was unable to resist the urge to touch her lips to his. Bending slowly, she parted her lips to place a gentle kiss atop his mouth.

His sharp intake of breath indicated his senses becoming instantly alert. But when his hands slid up her arms, across her shoulders, to cup her cheeks and deepen the kiss, she sighed contentedly. The warmth from his touch, his kiss, pushed the chill from her body and she trembled from the resounding heat that spread through her bones.

No words were spoken as his lips danced across her skin, sliding across her cheek, down her neck, before seizing her mouth once again. He shifted and sat up, drawing her into his arms with a heavy sigh.

"You should not be here."

Her eyes sparkled with a defiance he knew well. "I know."

"If your father-"

Slim fingers pressed quickly to his lips. "He is asleep, as is the rest of Rivendell. We are quite alone."

He stood, never releasing her from his touch, and moved toward the door. "Walk with me?"

"Always." She whispered, clutching at his hand as if it were a lifeline.

They walked through the winding pathways in silence, across the ornate bridges that made up this living wonder that was the last Homely elven House. Autumn was upon them and the leaves were falling, being crushed underfoot as they walked along the pathway hand in hand.

"What has brought you to me in the middle of the night, melisse? {my love}" Aragorn turned and brought her hands to his chest, protectively covering them with his own. 

"I could not sleep."

A gentle hand came up to brush against her cheek. He knew the worries of her heart. "Do not fear for me. I will return to you."

She smiled, a sad understanding smile. He could read her as easily as he could a book. "Your destiny is at hand; a destiny a long time in coming. I fear for you, Estel."

"I, too, fear what may become of this quest." His fingers caressed her cheek as his other gently squeezed her hand. "It is my duty to protect the hobbits. I am the Chief of the Dunedain and the Shire is under our protection. Even if my blood was not what it is, and the fulfillment of my destiny not on the horizon, " He glanced down at their joined hands. "I must do this thing. I must see the ring safely to Mordor, to its destruction."

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "If that means my own death, I will give it. My only regret is in leaving you behind."

"Our time will come. You will face this evil and defeat it. I hold to that belief, Estel. It is my only hope."

He drew her slowly against his chest and wrapped his arms securely around her shoulders. "Hope stands before you, indonya, in life or in death, we will be together."

When they parted, Arwen glanced at the jewel that lay nestled against his neck. Slim fingers traced its outline before her hand flattened against his heart. "Come back to me, Estel." Their eyes locked and they looked on one another, well aware that it could possibly be for the last time. 

"Always, meldanya {my beloved}."

As he drew her into his arms for a lingering kiss, they did not see the heartbroken look etched into the wizened features of her father watching from a far away balcony. His heavy sigh was carried into the wind as he turned away, his quiet whisper echoing the silent thoughts of his only daughter. _"He is not coming back."_

_Hope, would find a way. _

Or all _hope_ for Middle Earth would fade.

END


End file.
